


Happy Birthday

by CarthagoDelenda



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Childbirth discussion, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Gen, Island Mode continuity, Nonbinary Character, Other, Parental death discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 02:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3919285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarthagoDelenda/pseuds/CarthagoDelenda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd never gotten the hang of birthdays. (Twoshot written for Twogami's birthday!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. May 5, 2009 (School)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello once again! This is a little something written for Twogami's birthday. I wrote Part 1 a week ago, and Part 2 just now, and I've decided to put them on AO3 together.
> 
> The first part takes place during their first weeks at Hope's Peak (assuming HPA starts in April like most Japanese schools) and the second part during the first few weeks of an Island Mode-Everybody Lives continuity.
> 
> Also, now that I've graduated from college, I have a lot more time to work on a certain something... but until then, I hope this tides you over. Enjoy!

They’d never gotten the hang of remembering when their birthday was supposed to be. ****

Their last had been four months ago, when they’d turned seventeen. They’d had one a year and a half before that, when they’d tuned fifteen, and then another two months before, when they’d turned seventeen the first time – or was it sixteen, or even nineteen? There was the one time they’d turned nineteen, but if the years turned into numbers and their rough mathematic skills weren’t failing them, then they couldn’t have been anywhere near nineteen then…

But for all they knew, they could have been. They didn’t actually know their own age. They were young enough to look like a teenager and tall enough to look like a young adult. They had been a hundred people and a hundred ages, and the birthdays they’d had were only the ones their short-lived personas had gotten around to seeing.

But they knew Togami’s age. Sixteen. He was sixteen now, as of May fifth, but it was so soon after the start of the school year that not many of Togami’s classmates had given his birthday much of a thought, especially not with Childrens' Day and Golden Week to think about instead. He’d gotten some two-word well-wishes from the few students still on campus, plus a “special birthday confection” from Hanamura, given before he'd left for home some days ago. But there was no personal celebration. No calls, no messages. No heartfelt connections, none of the surprise birthday parties with cake and ice cream and pizza and candy that they’d seen on TV…

Perhaps if Togami had been born in June or July, his classmates would have known him well enough to care about his birthday. Then there might have been a party, and guests, and congratulations and gifts. Although, even then, even if Togami had the greatest birthday party a person could ever hope to have, the Impostor would never have a single one.

They’d never have cake, they’d never have guests, they’d never even have an exact age to count or birthday to anticipate.

But…no, they couldn’t let themselves think that way. If they did, it would only blur the line between fabrication and reality, bringing their persona down to the level of a fake in favor of a “self” that did not exist. Togami was who he was. Togami’s birthday was May fifth, and as such, so was his, because he was Byakuya Togami, and he shouldn’t even be thinking of himself in these abstract terms…

But the thought was already there, and as May fifth came to a close with them alone in Byakuya Togami’s dorm room with nothing for company but Hanamura’s days-old birthday confection, they thought of what had to be some other day, a day when someone they’d met but couldn’t remember had taken on the pain of giving birth to them, after having carried them for nine whole months. Sometime between that moment and the beginnings of what they could remember they’d disappeared from their life without the slightest trace, and in moments like these when their persona was at its weakest they wondered about this beginning, this human being they’d been separated from.

They could be dead, of course, and that’d be the easiest answer for why they’d been consigned to the life that they’d had. But what if they weren’t? They could still be out there in the world, using their name and keeping their face, taking the train to and from work, casually picking up other children from daycare, and watching TV until late at night. Perhaps like them, just at the stroke of midnight, they too might have once lain back and closed their eyes and wondered about the child that had somehow been separated from them. Or maybe they just went to sleep.

Or perhaps they were dead. They had no way of knowing.  They didn’t have them now. But they had the birthday confection, and that was good enough until next year, if Byakuya Togami survived that long. Surely, he’d have enough good and personal experiences to make up for this one. After all, if he was going to inherit a company, he’d have to be at least somewhat personable.


	2. May 5, 2009 (Island)

They’d never gotten the hang of remembering when their birthday was supposed to be, not until they’d opened up Byakuya Togami’s profile on their Electronic Student Handbook and stared down at the date for the first time. ****

They could swipe across to anyone else’s profiles as well, and read their birthdays at their own leisure. Two of them, Mahiru Koizumi’s and Mikan Tsumiki’s, had already passed during their month on the island. As little as they’d all known each other their classmates had still made an effort to make those days special: they’d had a party each day, and a cake at each party. Koizumi’s had been more of a girls’ night out than anything else, of course, while Tsumiki had burst into tears whenever she’d felt that she was being paid more than her share of attention. But those were just the touches that made each day a unique celebration, they thought.

As they lay in bed on the morning of May fifth, running their finger across their Handbook and listening to the last of Usami’s morning announcement, they wondered just  _what_  could make Byakuya Togami’s party unique. They’d never thought of how he’d react. Would he consider it too far beneath him? Too much pomp and circumstance for overwhelmingly _common_ act of having been born? Or would he be glad to be celebrated, given his sense of his own importance?

This assuming he’d have one at all. Or that a month of keeping to himself had endeared him to his classmates.

They almost wished they could ask Togami for guidance. “As if he’d ever speak to me at all,” they said in a voice that cracked at the edges.

They lifted themselves out of bed, stepped into the bathroom, and looked in the mirror. They weren’t quite Togami yet, not without a large amount of work. Still, they’d been getting lazier about the crispness of the persona overall, perhaps as a consequence of the lazy summer days. But no matter how much they cut corners on, if they forgot to put on their mascara or a sore throat got in the way of their voice, they had never encountered suspicion from their classmates. They didn’t just believe they were Togami. They knew it to be the truth.  And if it was, then they’d have to decide their own reactions for themselves.  

But they could worry about that after breakfast. There was no sense in thinking on an empty stomach, not when there was so much food available.

* * *

After all their worrying, they were almost disappointed when the first round of reactions to Togami’s birthday were fairly low-key. He got some standard greetings from Koizumi and Nanami, a highly unstandard greeting involving arcane invocations from Tanaka, a hearty slap on the back from Souda and Nidai, and the usual uncomfortable flirting from Hanamura. Some, they thought, were even surprisingly chilly. Hinata only waved at them from across the restaurany. Komaeda began to greet them before stopping midway and declaring that it would be “much less of a risk” if he saved his words for later. And Mioda, in particular, seemed determined to ignore them - she spent all of breakfast sitting in the corner of the room, eating bacon and giggling to herself.

But by about ten o’clock she’d warmed up to the point where she couldn’t leave them alone. They couldn’t take three steps  without her bouncing around in front of them, asking them whether “Byakuya-chan knows what Ibuki’s thinking”, or asking them about whether they'd gotten double the level of celebration on Childrens' Day when they were younger, or making up elaborate reasons for them not to enter or go anywhere near the old lodge, despite the fact that they were on the fourth island when she’d given her reasons.

“Ibuki opened the door only a peek and saw dust bunnies bigger than Byakuya-chan’s belly!” she’d said. They briefly toyed with probing her on this, or asking her just why she was so determined to keep them away, but they didn’t have to wonder for long. By noon she’d changed her tune, and instead decided that she  _wanted_ them to see the dust bunnies, so she practically dragged them back to the main island and pulled them through the door of the old lodge.

There were no dust bunnies that they could see - in fact, the lodge was scrupulously clean. Mioda didn’t comment on this at all - she kept pulling them down the hall, towards the main event room. As she was about to open the door they heard shout “SURPRISE!” from inside, followed by another indistinct yell. They opened the door to find Owari and Kuzuryuu slap-fighting as the rest of their classmates said “SURPRISE!” on cue and tried not to look at them.

The reaction that fit best ended up being a small nod and brief thanks. Perhaps it was what they’d ultimately expected of Byakuya Togami. Rough, dignified, set apart, and yet, the way they played them, warm when he needed to be.

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy themselves. And much of that enjoyment came not from the occasion, or even from the cake and chicken wings and everything else Hanamura had served up with a smile. It came from Nidai yelling the entire “Happy Birthday” song right in their ears. Or Sonia attempting a game of “Pin The Snout On The Makango” that ended with Pekoyama beating the makango picture to a pulp with her practice sword. Or Komaeda cautioning them on the dangers of food poisoning while they ate eagerly and didn’t listen. Or Hinata giving them an astoundingly rare Black Rabbit Notebook and not being able to explain where he’d gotten it. Or Nanami falling asleep on the cake. Or Saionji somehow coming up with three new nicknames for them in the space of half an hour, each more brilliant and descriptive than the last.

They loved learning these little things about them. They loved seeing the little traits that made them all individuals, that made them all unique, that they were all inclined to do simply by being themselves. It almost made them wish they could do the same.

* * *

“Ibuki did want to give Byakuya-chan a present,” Mioda said, rubbing her chin as though she were stroking an imaginary beard. “But Ibuki wanted to give Byakuya-chan the most perfect of all perfect things. Ibuki didn’t know what Byakuya-chan could have if Byakuya-chan could have anything in the world, so she’s going to ask you and when she gets it for you she’s expecting you to act surprised!” She looked up at them. “So what could that be, Byakuya-chan…?”

And Byakuya-chan didn’t know how to answer. They didn’t have this kind of information readily at hand. The ultimate success of the Togami Conglomerate? The power of the free market? Even more money? They couldn’t see themselves getting passionate about any of those things.  But if they thought about what they were passionate about…

Well, the first thing they thought of was food. But they had plenty of that (they were presently eating a large amount of cake), and that didn’t solve the root of the problem, the lack of conception of what Togami might have wanted and the lack of imagination or personality necessary to come up with an answer for themselves. So in their desperation they did something very un-Togami-like: they deferred.  

“Tch,” they said, waving their fork around. “What makes you think that whatever that would be would be physical? Having your heart’s desire is nothing but an abstract concept. You’re looking for something you can buy in a store, I’m sure. For that, you can surprise me. You know me. I’m sure you can judge my character.”

Mioda looked confused, but only for a moment. Then she grinned, then hummed and tapped her chin. “A heart’s desire, but something that isn’t physical… hmmm, if Byakuya-chan’s talking about a song, then he’s right, it isn’t something that can be bought in stores! Because Ibuki can write Byakuya-chan one, just for him!”

Somehow, they weren’t surprised. Flattered, but not surprised. “That…well, that is…not surprising,” they said. “Most professionals do believe that their chosen field is the answer to everything -”

“But the difference between Ibuki and professionals is Ibuki is always right!” Mioda attempted to lackadaisically lean her arm on their shoulder, but looked rather odd in the attempt as they were about a foot taller than she was. “So, whaddya think? If Ibuki can work night and day and get a song together in less than a week, and the Titty Typhoon has enough bass power, would Byakuya-chan want to listen to Ibuki perform?”

There was so much care, so much enthusiasm in her words. They knew it was just how she was, that it was just the way she went through life, but still, for them to get that kind of attention, they hoped they could get across, even through their given filter, just how important that was. “What makes you think I wouldn’t?”

“Al-RIGHT!” Mioda leapt off their shoulder, and did several high kicks in the air. “Then Ibuki’s gotta get started right now! But she’s gotta keep it a secret from Byakuya-chan until the big day. You won’t try to snoop on me, right? Riiiiiight?”

“Ah…no. Never.” They smiled, hardly realizing they hadn’t calculated the move. “Of course not.”


End file.
